Hard to Handle

by Diana Palmer

  “Their mother was tired of having drug users in her neighborhood. They met in an abandoned house next door to her. There were frequent disputes, usually followed by running gun battles. The dealer who made the house his headquarters got ambitious. He decided to double-cross the new drug leadership that came in after Manuel Lopez’s old territory was finally divided,” he said carelessly. “Mama Garcia kept a close eye on what was going on, and kept the police informed. She made the fatal error of telling her infrequent neighbor that his days in her neighborhood were numbered. He told his supplier.

  “All this got back to the new dealer network. So when they came to take out the double-crossing dealer, they were quite particular about where they placed the shots. They knew where Mama Garcia lived, and they targeted her along with their rival. Miguel and Juan were hit almost twenty times with automatic weapon fire. They died in the firefight, along with the rebellious dealer. Their mother was wounded and will probably never walk again.”

  She winced as she looked at the photograph of the two little boys, so happy and smiling. Both dead, over drugs.

  He saw her discomfort and nodded. “The local distributor I’m after ordered the hit. He works in this building, in this corporation, in this division.” He leaned forward, and she’d never seen him look so menacing. “I’m going to take him out. So, I’ll ask you one more time, Jodie. Will you help me?”

  5

  Jodie groaned inwardly. She knew as she looked one last time at the photograph that she couldn’t let a child-killer walk the streets, no matter what the sacrifice to herself.

  She handed him back the photograph. “Yes, I’ll do it,” she said in a subdued tone. “When do I start?”

  “Tomorrow at lunch. We’ll go out to eat. You can give me the grand tour on the way.”

  “Okay.”

  “You still look reluctant,” he said with narrowed eyes.

  “Brody just asked me out, for the first time,” she confessed, trying to sound more despondent than she actually was. It wouldn’t hurt to let Alexander know that she wasn’t pining over him.

  His expression was not easily read. “I thought he was engaged.”

  She grimaced. “Well, things are cooling off,” she defended herself. “His girlfriend travels all over the world. She just came back from trips to Mexico and Peru, and she doesn’t pay Brody much attention even when she’s here!” she muttered.

  “Peru?” He seemed thoughtful. He studied her quietly for a long moment before he spoke. “They’re still engaged, Jodie.”

  And he thought less of her because she was ignoring another woman’s rights. Of course he did. She didn’t like the idea, either, and she knew she wasn’t going to go out with Brody a week from Saturday. Not now. Alexander made her feel too guilty.

  She traced the rim of her china coffee cup. “You’re right,” she had to admit. “It’s just that she treats him so badly,” she added with a wistful smile. “He’s a sweet man. He’s always encouraging me in my job, telling me I can do things, believing in me.”

  “Which is no damned reason to have an affair with a man,” he said furiously. It made him angry to think that another man was trying to uplift Jodie’s ego when he’d done nothing but damage to it.

  She lowered her voice. “I am not having an affair with him!”

  “But you would, if he asked,” he said, his eyes as cold as green glass.

  She started to argue, then stopped. It would do no good to argue. Besides, it was her life, and he had no business telling her how to live it.

  “How do you want me to act while we’re pretending to get involved?” she countered sourly. “Do you want me to throw myself at you and start kissing you when you walk into my cubicle?”

  His eyes dilated. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Never mind,” she said, ruffled. “I’ll play it by ear.”

  He really did seem different, she thought, watching him hesitate uncharacteristically. He drew a diskette in a plastic holder out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her.

  “Another chore,” he added, glancing around to make sure they weren’t being observed. “I want you to check out these Web sites, and the e-mail addresses, without leaving footprints. I want to know if they’re legitimate and who owns them. They’re password protected and in code.”

  “No problem,” she said easily. “I can get behind any firewall they put up.”

  “Don’t leave an address they can trace back to you,” he emphasized. “These people won’t hesitate to kill children. They wouldn’t mind wasting you.”

  “I get the point. I’m not sloppy.” She slipped the diskette into her purse and finished her coffee. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Margie said to tell you that she’s sorry.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “For what?”

  “For everything.” He searched her eyes. “And for the record, you don’t owe us endless favors, debt or no debt.”

  She got to her feet. “I know that. I’ll have this information for you tomorrow by the time you get here.”

  He got up, too, catching the bill before she had time to grab it. “My conference, my treat,” he said. He stared down at her with an intensity that was disturbing. “You’re still keeping something back,” he said in a deep, low tone.

  “Nothing of any importance,” she replied. It was disconcerting that he could read her expressions that well.

  His eyes narrowed. “Do you really like working here, Jodie?”

  “You’re the one who said I needed to stop loafing and get a job,” she accused with more bitterness than she realized. “So I got one.”

  He actually winced. “I said you needed to get your priorities straight,” he countered. “Not that you needed to jump into a job you hate.”

  “I like Brody.”

  “Brody isn’t the damned job,” he replied tersely. “You’re not cut out for monotony. It will kill your soul.”

  She knew that; she didn’t want to admit it. “Don’t you have a hot date?” she asked sarcastically, out of patience with his meddling.

  He sighed heavily. “Yes. Why don’t you?”

  “Men aren’t worth the trouble they cause,” she lied, turning.

  “Oh, you’d know?” he drawled sarcastically. “With your hectic social life?”

  She turned, furious. “When Brody’s free, look out,” she said.

  He didn’t reply. But he watched her all the way down the hall.

  She fumed all the way home. Alexander had such a nerve, she thought angrily. He could taunt her with his conquests, use her to do his decryption work, force her into becoming his accomplice in an investigation…!

  Wait a minute, she thought suddenly, her hand resting on her purse over the diskette he’d entrusted her with. He had some of the best cyber crime experts in the country on his payroll. Why was he farming out work to an amateur who didn’t even work for him?

  The answer came in slowly, as she recalled bits and pieces of information she’d heard during the Lopez investigation. She knew people in Jacobsville who kept in touch with her after her move to Houston. Someone had mentioned that there were suspicions of a mole in the law enforcement community, a shadowy figure who’d funneled information to Lopez so that he could escape capture.

  Then Alexander’s unusual request made sense. He suspected somebody in his organization of working with the drug dealers, and he wanted someone he could trust to do this investigation for him.

  She felt oddly touched by his confidence, not only in her ability, but also in her character. He’d refused to let her help him before, but now he was trusting her with explosive information. He was letting her into his life, even on a limited basis. He had to care about her, a little.

  Sure he did, she told herself glumly. She was a computer whiz, and he knew it. Hadn’t he paid for the college education that had honed those skills? He trusted her ability to manipulate software and track criminal activity through cyberspace. That didn’t amount to a declaration of lov
e. She had to stop living in dreams. There was no hope of a future with Alexander. She wasn’t even his type. He liked highly intelligent, confident women. He liked professionals. Jodie was more like a mouse. She kept in her little corner, avoiding confrontation, hiding her abilities, speaking only when spoken to, never demanding anything.

  She traced the outline of the diskette box through the soft leather of her purse, bought almost new at a yard sale. She pursed her lips. Well, maybe it was time she stopped being everybody’s lackey and started standing up for herself. She was smart. She was capable. She could do any job she really wanted to do.

  She thought about firing a woman with a dependent elderly mother and child and ground her teeth together. It was becoming obvious that she was never going to enjoy that sort of job.

  On the other hand, tracking down criminals was exciting. It made her face flush as she considered how valuable she could be to Alexander in this investigation. She thought of the two little Garcia boys and their poor mother, and her eyes narrowed angrily. She was going to help Alexander catch the animal who’d ordered that depraved execution. And she was just the woman with the skills to do it.

  Jodie spent most of the evening and the wee hours of the morning tracking down the information Alexander had asked her to find for him. She despaired a time or two, because she ran into one dead end after another. The drug dealers must have cyber experts of their own, and of a high caliber, if they could do this sort of thing.

  She finally found a Web site that listed information which was, on the surface, nothing more than advisories about the best sites to find UFO information. But one of the addresses coincided with the material she’d printed out from Alexander’s diskette, as a possible link to the drug network. She opened site after site, but she found nothing more than double-talk about possible landing sites and dates. Most covered pages and pages of data, but the last one had only one page of information. It was oddly concise, and the sites were all in a defined area—Texas and Mexico and Peru. Strange, she thought. But, then, Peru was right next door to Colombia. And while drugs and Colombia went together like apples and pie, few people outside law enforcement would connect Peru with drug smuggling.

  It was two in the morning, and she was so sleepy that she began to laugh at her own inadequacy. But as she looked at the last site she made sudden sense of the numbers and landing sites. Quickly she printed out the single page of UFO landing sites.

  There was a pattern in the listings. It was so obvious that it hit her in the face. She grabbed a pencil and pad and began writing down the numbers. From there, it was a quick move to transpose them with letters. They spelled an e-mail address.

  She plugged back into her ISP and changed identities to avoid leaving digital footprints. Then she used a hacker’s device to find the source of the e-mail. It originated from a foreign server, and linked directly to a city in Peru. Moreover, a city in Peru near the border with Colombia. She copied down the information without risking leaving it in her hard drive and got out fast.

  She folded the sheets of paper covered with her information—because she hadn’t wanted to leave anything on her computer that could be accessed if she were online—and placed them in her purse. She smiled sleepily as she climbed into bed with a huge yawn. Alexander, she thought, was going to be impressed.

  In fact, he was speechless. He went over the figures in his car in the parking lot on the way to lunch. His eyes met Jodie’s and he shook his head.

  “This is ingenious,” he murmured.

  “They did do a good job of hiding information…” she agreed.

  “No! Your work,” he corrected instantly. “This is quality work, Jodie. Quality work. I can’t think of anyone who could have done it better.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “And you’re taking notes for Brody Vance,” he said with veiled contempt. “He should be working for you.”

  She chuckled at the thought of Brody with a pad and pen sitting with his legs crossed under a skirt, in front of her desk. “He wouldn’t suit.”

  “You don’t suit the job you’re doing,” he replied. “When this case is solved, I want you to consider switching vocations. Any law enforcement agency with a cyber crime unit would be proud to have you.”

  Except his, she was thinking, but she didn’t say it. A compliment from Alexander was worth something. “I might do that,” she said noncommittally.

  “I’ll put this to good use,” he said, sliding the folded sheets into his inside suit pocket. “Where do you want to eat?” he added.

  “I usually eat downstairs in the cafeteria. They have a blue plate special…”

  “Where does your boss have lunch?”

  “Brody?” She blinked. “When his girlfriend’s in town, he usually goes to a Mexican restaurant, La Rancheria. It’s three blocks over near the north expressway,” she added.

  “I know where it is. What’s his girlfriend like?”

  She shrugged. “Very dark, very beautiful, very chic. She’s District Marketing manager for the whole southwest. She oversees our sales force for the gas and propane distribution network. We sell all over the world, of course, not just in Texas.”

  “But she travels to Mexico and Peru,” he murmured as he turned the Jaguar into traffic.

  “She has family in both places,” she said disinterestedly. “Her mother was moving from a town in Peru near the Colombian border down to Mexico City, and Cara had to help organize it. That’s what she told Brody.” She frowned. “Odd, I thought Brody said her mother was dead. But, then, I didn’t really pay attention. I’ve only seen her a couple of times. She leads Brody around by the nose. He’s not very forceful.”

  “Do you like Mexican food?”

  “The real thing, yes,” she said with a sigh. “I usually get my chili fix from cans or TV dinners. It’s not the same.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “You used to love eggs ranchero for breakfast,” she commented, and then could have bitten her tongue out for admitting that she remembered his food preferences.

  “Yes. You made them for me at four in the morning, the day my father died. Jessie was in tears, so was Margie. Nobody was awake. I’d come from overseas and didn’t even have supper. You heard me rattling around in the kitchen trying to make a sandwich,” he recalled with a strangely tender smile. “You got up and started cooking. Never said a word, either,” he added. “You put the plate in front of me, poured coffee, and went away.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t have talked to save my life. I was too broken up at losing Dad. You knew that. I never understood how.”

  “Neither did I,” she confessed. She looked out the window. It was a cold day, misting rain. The city looked smoggy. That wasn’t surprising. It usually did.

  “What is it about Vance that attracts you?” he asked abruptly.

  “Brody? Well, he’s kind and encouraging, he always makes people feel good about themselves. I like being with him. He’s…I don’t know…comfortable.”

  “Comfortable.” He made the word sound insulting. He turned into the parking lot of the Mexican restaurant.

  “You asked,” she pointed out.

  He cut off the engine and glanced at her. “God forbid that a woman should ever find me comfortable!”

  “That would take a miracle,” she said sweetly, and unfastened her seat belt.

  He only laughed.

  They had a quiet lunch. Brody wasn’t there, but Alexander kept looking around as if he expected the man to materialize right beside the table.

  “Are you looking for someone?” she asked finally.

  He glanced at her over his dessert, a caramel flan. “I’m always looking for someone,” he returned. “It’s my job.”

  She didn’t think about what he did for a living most of the time. Of course, the bulge under his jacket where he carried his gun was a dead giveaway, and sometimes he mentioned a case he was working on. Today, their combined efforts on the computer tracking brought it up. But she could go w
hole days without realizing that he put himself at risk to do the job. In his position, it was inevitable that he would make enemies. Some of them must have been dangerous, but he’d never been wounded.

  “Thinking deep thoughts?” he asked her as he registered her expression.

  “Not really. This flan is delicious.”

  “No wonder your boss frequents the place. The food is good, too.”

  “I really like the way they make coffee…”

  “Kennedy!” Alexander called to a man just entering the restaurant, interrupting Jodie’s comment.

  An older man glanced his way, hesitated, and then smiled broadly as he joined them. “Cobb!” he greeted. “Good to see you!”

  “I thought you were in New Orleans,” Alexander commented.

  “I was. Got through quicker than I thought I would. Who’s this?” he added with a curious glance at Jodie.

  “Jodie’s my girl,” Alexander said carelessly. “Jodie, this is Bert Kennedy, one of my senior agents.”

  They shook hands.

  “Glad to meet you, Mr. Kennedy.”

  “Same here, Miss…?”

  Alexander ignored the question. Jodie just smiled at him.

  “Uh, any luck on the shipyard tip?” Kennedy asked.

  Alexander shook his head. “Didn’t pan out.” He didn’t meet the older man’s eyes. “We may put a man at Thorn Oil next week,” he said in a quiet tone, glancing around to make sure they weren’t subject to eavesdroppers. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Kennedy had been nervous, but now he relaxed and began to grin. “Great! I’d love to be in on the surveillance,” he added. “Unless you have something bigger?”

  “We’ll talk about it later. See you.”

  Kennedy nodded, and walked on to a table by the window.

  “Is he one of your best men?” she asked Alexander.

  “Kennedy is a renegade,” he murmured coolly, watching the man from a distance. “He’s the bird who brought mercenaries into my drug bust in Jacobsville the year before last, without warning me first. One of their undercover guys almost got killed because we didn’t know who he was.”