Getting Away Is Deadly

by Sara Rosett

  “Yeah. And I’ve seen her house. She didn’t have fifty thousand dollars’ worth of yard work done. There’s not even a water feature.”

  “Was the check a personal check or was it from STAND?” I asked.

  “It was a personal check. I’ve been to their office, too. It was the first place I went when I got here. It’s in an office park with landscaping contracted out to a local company.”

  “My, you have been busy,” I said mildly. The Web page still hadn’t loaded, so I hit the Refresh button and it came up right away with pictures of STAND’s board across the top. “Hold on, that’s MacInally’s sister.”

  “What?” Summer asked.

  “I’m looking at the Web page for STAND on your laptop. I’ve met Lena. She’s MacInally’s sister.” When her mouth wasn’t pinched with disapproval like it had been at the hospital, she was a very attractive woman. The photo showed off her high cheekbones and even her severe business suit didn’t hide her curvy figure. “She was at the hospital. She was in D.C. on Wednesday. Except her hair was more brown than red when I met her.” In the photo on the Web site, her hair was a deep cherry, which looked completely artificial and actually made her look older.

  “So what? She dyed her hair. And there’s one other thing.” Summer’s voice sounded smug and I knew she’d been holding back, saving the best for last. “She’s in the photo you gave me. She was on the Metro platform.”

  “Are you sure?” I saw the flash of the taxi’s headlights as it pulled into the driveway, so I shut down the laptop, turned off the lights, and grabbed my purse.

  “Oh, I’m sure.” Summer’s voice swelled with confidence.

  I locked the front door and walked to the taxi. It was just barely sprinkling so I wasn’t really wet when I got in the taxi and mouthed “thank you” to Abby. I tucked the phone into the crook of my shoulder and slammed the taxi door. “Summer, I’m heading back to the hotel. I locked up your place. You’ve got another key?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. I’m going back to look at the photo and think about all this. You’re definitely coming back tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, call me when you get in and be careful. Tony had your keys this morning. He could have had a copy made before he gave them to me.”

  “Tony wouldn’t do something like that,” Abby said dismissively. “I’m sorry I worried you so much.”

  I could tell from her tone that she wouldn’t listen to what I said about Tony. Stubbornness was a trait that ran in the Avery family. Mitch and I were well matched in that characteristic, at least. “It’s all right. I can see why you were so excited about tracking Lena down. I’m going to a dinner tonight, so I may not be able to answer my cell phone, but I’d really appreciate it if you leave me a message when you get in.”

  I said good-bye to Summer and Abby said, “So, busy afternoon?”

  “Slightly.” I leaned back into the seat and brought her up to date on everything that had happened.

  “Are you sure you want to go to this thing tonight?” I pulled on my new sandals and checked my reflection in the mirrored closet doors.

  Mitch wiped the last of the shaving cream from his face. “Don’t have a choice.”

  I pulled on my jacket over the tank and capri pants and frowned into the mirror. We’d done our fair share of skipping out on squadron activities. Mitch had never been one to insist that we go to every event. “Really? We have to go?” He’d shaved for it. It must be important.

  “No. You don’t have to go, but I do. At least, I have to put in an appearance.”

  “Well, anything that you shave for and dress up for must be pretty important.” I held up the shirt and skort I’d worn earlier in the day and inspected them for pink paint, but somehow I’d escaped any splatters. I folded them in half and squashed them into the bag that held our dirty clothes. As I pushed down, I felt a solid lump in the material. I pulled the skort back out and went through the pockets.

  It was the memory drive I’d found this morning on Emma’s floor. Had that only been a few hours ago? It felt like about three days. I tuned into what Mitch was saying.

  “It’s different, here at the class.” He slid his arms into a long-sleeved white polo shirt. “It’s a smaller group and if I don’t show up, I’ll definitely be missed. Are you tired? You don’t have to go. You can stay up here and rest and I’ll do the face time and keep it short.”

  “No. I’m not tired.” More like keyed up. There were so many things swirling around in my thoughts. I needed to straighten them out. “Besides, I’m dressed and Abby says there’s going to be a chocolate fountain. Can’t miss that.” I cleared my throat and went to lean on the wall behind Mitch, watching him in the mirror as he buttoned his shirt. He was so glad he didn’t have to wear a uniform tonight. He’d rather wear a tie than one of his dress uniforms.

  He finished buttoning the shirt and moved on to the cuffs as he said, “You look amazing, by the way. New outfit?”

  “Yes.” I twirled around. Mitch always noticed when I had new clothes or a new haircut. He didn’t say anything else, but he smiled his slow smile, which was better than any compliment.

  “New shoes, too. My feet will probably kill me by the end of the night, but unless I want to wear tennis shoes or my beat-up brown sandals, this is it.” I ran my thumb over the smooth side of the memory drive as I held it in my hand.

  He picked up his tie and said, “You okay?”

  “Um…well, there’s something I want to talk to you about—”

  The phone on the nightstand rang. I snatched it up, relieved that I didn’t have to try and explain the tangled mess of events that had happened earlier in the day. Mitch was good at sorting things out, but I knew he’d be less than happy that I’d followed someone around. And I’d lectured Summer on being careful and considerate.

  “Ellie, this is Nadia. I just noticed the red message light on our phone. You want to see my photos from the Metro again?”

  “Yes, I wanted to look at all your photos again in case we missed something earlier.” Like another woman with red hair. “Do you mind if I borrow your computer?” Mitch flicked his tie over, watching me in the mirror.

  “Not at all. Do you want me to bring it by tonight on our way down to the party?”

  Mitch had his gaze fixed on me, and if I was really honest, I felt a tiny bit nervous. I took the coward’s way out. “No, don’t do that. I’ll be right over to pick it up.”

  An Everything In Its Place Tip for an Organized Trip

  Don’t forget to do these things right before you head out the door:

  Set the thermostat to any desired temperature to save energy while you’re gone.

  Take out the trash.

  Empty foods from the fridge that will spoil, like milk.

  Close curtains and set timers on lights as well as home security codes.

  Water plants.

  Start the dishwasher.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Here you go. I brought up the file with the photos.” Nadia pushed her laptop across the small table toward me. “Kyle and I are going on to the dinner, so take all the time you need.”

  “Thanks, Nadia. I gave those pictures we printed out to Summer. I just want to take another look.”

  “Sure,” she said. Kyle, her bulky husband with a jocular attitude, stood in the hall, holding the door to their room open with his hand.

  “Come on, hon. I’m sure she knows her way around a computer.” He pointed a finger at me and said, “Just don’t empty our checking account, okay?”

  Nadia rolled her eyes on her way out the door and said, “Don’t pay any attention to him. Bye-bye.”

  The door sighed shut behind them and I quickly clicked through the photos. I only had a few more minutes until Mitch met me here. I’d fled without explaining what I’d wanted to talk about and when he’d heard me asking to see the photos of the Metro platform again he hadn’t been happy, but I’d left before he cou
ld say anything. And since he was having belt issues again—he’d been searching the suitcase pockets for his other belt, a plain brown leather one this time—he hadn’t been as quick off the mark as he usually was.

  I found the photo that showed Jorge. There was Irene in the corner. It was hard to believe she’d been so worried about talking to us about her fertility issues that she’d felt like she had to sneak around. She could have just told us she had an appointment and left it at that. Well, maybe not. This was Irene and she loved to share any gossip, or news, as she called it, with everyone, so she wasn’t used to keeping anything quiet.

  I frowned as I looked at the back of the redhead in the beret and denim jacket. Still no way to prove that the person wasn’t Summer. The slip of material that was Wellesley’s dress was there, too. Arranging marriages for illegal immigrants. Who would even think of a scheme like that? Of course, I knew the answer. Someone who’s greedy.

  The person I didn’t see was Lena Stallings. I started over at the left side and carefully looked at each face. Finally, I found her. “Well, no wonder I didn’t recognize her right away.” In the photo, she was behind a man wearing a backpack who was turning away. The backpack blocked most of her body, but I could see her head. Her mouth was pinched together and she looked like she didn’t like being in the crush of people. It was so dark in the Metro that her hair looked dark brown at first glance, but when I zoomed in on her, the hair brushing her eyebrows was a dark red color.

  Okay, so maybe Summer had something here. Lena was on the platform and she was close to Jorge. One step and she’d be right behind him. The problem was that we didn’t have any more photos.

  I slid the memory drive into place and scanned the documents listed on it. I’d just take a quick look and see if I could figure out who it belonged to. Ivan had said it wasn’t his and I didn’t think any of the wives from the tour group who had come to help out were carrying around a computer memory drive, but maybe it was Nadia’s. If it was hers, I’d leave it with the computer. Or maybe it belonged to Tony or the woman who’d painted the mural, although she’d been working on the other side of the room.

  When the list of documents came up, it read like a sightseeing itinerary: Washington Monument, Capitol Building, Senate Offices, White House, Library of Congress, Lincoln Memorial. The list went on. I opened the first item and scrolled down the page through several photos of the Washington Monument. I opened the next document and saw more pictures of the Capitol. It looked like a bunch of photos from someone’s trip to D.C., but there was something missing. I went back through the first set of photos slowly.

  No people posed in front of the monument. I switched to the set of photos featuring the Capitol. There were people in the photos, but they were walking or standing in groups, not paying attention to the photographer. No one was posing, smiling, or waving for the camera. I looked through the photos again and realized that the sequence of photos covered each angle of the building.

  As I delved deeper into the documents, I swallowed. Someone was studying our national monuments and meticulously photographing them from every angle, at various times throughout the day and night. None of these were like Nadia’s pictures. Hers had a warmth, a focus on people in their surroundings. These photos were cold and removed, almost analytical.

  And the documents were really long. I paged down to the end of one and found a list of times the Capitol was open, broken down into lists of dates when Congress was actually in session, with estimates of how the number of people in the building fluctuated by the hour.

  When I got to the section headed Security, all I could think was that these were very dangerous documents. I rubbed my forehead as I read the list: estimated number of security personnel, locations of security personnel, past security breaches. It went on and on.

  I rubbed my forehead again and tried to decide what to do. Best-case scenario was that it was some sort of security review. Worst-case scenario was…

  My thoughts skittered away from the awful possibilities. But I had to go there. What if it belonged to some nutcase who had something against the U.S. government? Or what if it belonged to a terrorist looking for weak spots?

  I skimmed through the rest of the documents. Most of them looked the same as what I’d just read, except for one titled Press Release Draft. It was a single page and listed various talking points the Women’s Advancement Center wanted to make about the safety initiative. The first line on the page read From: Tony Zobart.

  I leaned back in the chair. I should call Detective Brown and give it to him. He could pass it on to the people who could determine if it was a threat. But I couldn’t do that until I was sure Summer was back in town. It should only be a few hours until she was back. I’d have to keep it until then, but I certainly didn’t want to take it back to the hotel room. I could picture it now. “Hi, Mitch. I’m ready to go. Just let me hide this memory chip under the hotel soap.” No way that would go over well. And the questions it would lead to!

  I pulled the chip out and put it in my pocket. It was so tiny. What if I lost it? There was no way anyone would believe what I’d seen. I quickly put it back in the computer and copied the files into an e-mail that I sent to myself. I felt better with a backup copy, even if it was floating around in cyberspace. I pulled the chip out again and put it in my pocket.

  I jumped and jarred the laptop when a knock on the door reverberated through the room. I closed down the laptop and went to look through the peephole. Mitch stood in the hall, one arm braced on the door frame.

  I opened the door. “Hi. All done. Oh, good, you found your belt. Was it in the suitcase? We’d better hurry. We’re riding over in the hotel shuttle with Abby and Jeff. We’re supposed to meet them in the lobby.” I realized I was talking too much, so I shut up and made a move toward the elevator.

  He didn’t move. “Oh no. We’re not going down yet. Why did you have to look at Nadia’s photos again?”

  “Summer said she found another woman in the picture who has red hair and I wanted to see for myself.” Stop there, I told myself.

  Mitch sighed and dropped his arm from the door frame. “Ellie, what are you doing? You know the police are working on that.”

  “Yeah. I have a lot of faith in the police.”

  Mitch let that one go. We’d been through this before. We were both stubborn, but in so many other areas Mitch and I were opposites. His attitude was to let the police do their job and justice would be done. I wasn’t so sure it would work out that way. “Mitch, they’ve zeroed in on Summer and aren’t looking at anyone else.”

  “And how do you know that? Are you on the inside of the investigation? You know everyone they’re talking to?”

  “No, but I know that Detective Brown called Summer today, wanting to talk to her again.” Oops. I didn’t want to go there. “So they’re obviously still fixated on her.”

  “And how did Summer take that?”

  “She was nervous, understandably.” I didn’t mention that the police seemed to think she’d played a role in Jorge’s death. There was so much to explain and it would take forever. After dinner, I’d tell him everything that had happened. “Come on. We’ve got to go,” I said as I grabbed his hand. We walked down the hall. “So, did the woman have red hair?” Mitch asked as he punched the Down button.

  “Yes, she did.”

  “And what did you want to talk about back in the room?”

  The elevator doors slid open, we joined two other couples inside, and I said, “I’ll tell you later.”

  “I don’t see Jeff or Abby,” Mitch said, so we took a seat on the leather ottomans in sight of the elevator.

  Mitch pulled my hand into his and said, “After you left the room, I called the squadron. I figured I’d check in one more time. Our assignment came down.”

  He paused. He didn’t look excited and he hadn’t blurted it out the minute he saw me, so it wasn’t good. Oh no. More snow boots? Or was it an assignment to one of the outposts of civilization
, those tiny bases situated near a minuscule town without a freeway for miles and no restaurants or shopping?

  “And?” I asked impatiently. Even if it was bad, I had to know. In fact, it didn’t seem fair. Some unknown person in the Air Force Personnel Center already knew. And the whole orderly room back at the squadron, too. “Is it bad?”

  “No. In fact, it’s what we wanted. Hawaii.”

  “Hawaii! We actually got our first choice? That’s great!” I squeezed his hand and he smiled briefly. “Aren’t you happy? You don’t look happy.”

  “I am. Hawaii will be terrific,” Mitch said. “Jeff’s assignment came down, too. It’s not Hawaii. They’re going to Georgia.”

  “Georgia. That is a long way.” A wave of melancholy washed over me. Abby and I had hoped we’d be stationed at the same base and I’d refused to even think about it not happening. Getting through my week without Abby to laugh with and gripe with was just…unthinkable. She was the one who kept me sane. Well, Mitch kept me sane, too, but there were some things that you needed a girlfriend for, like shopping, which I was horrible at. And she helped me get through the long trips when Mitch was away. No one understood quite like another military spouse.

  “We knew it was a long shot, the possibility of us getting the same base again.” I wanted to put on a brave face, but I couldn’t keep the sadness out of my voice as I said, “We’ll be able to call and e-mail pictures.”

  Only a couple more months to hang out with my best friend. And her baby. I wouldn’t get to do the whole surrogate doting aunt thing. I pushed those thoughts aside and tried to be cheerful. “There’s Jeff and Abby.”

  Abby hurried up and said, “I heard you got Hawaii! How exciting. I’m devastated, of course. What am I going to do without you? You’ll come visit me in Georgia, right? And we’ll have to come see you in Hawaii.”

  I should have known Abby wouldn’t hide her emotions. “You’ll really fly all that way to see us?” I asked.