Look-Alike

by Meredith Fletcher

  “Don’t tell me Riley has already found Beck?” Elle said.

  “He hasn’t,” Sam said. “But he knows where Joachim Reiter is.”

  Involuntarily, Elle’s heart skipped a beat. She grew irritated with herself. She really needed to get that man off her mind.

  “Well?” Elle pressed.

  “He’s on the run in Leipzig,” Sam said. “For the murder of a German BND agent.”

  Elle tried not to react, but something must have shown.

  “I’m sorry,” Sam said.

  Waving the apology away, Elle said, “We both knew he was a criminal.” Riley’s reports on the man had ascertained that. “It’s not a surprise.”

  But it was. Elle couldn’t imagine what could prompt Joachim to murder a BND agent. Remembering him the way he’d been back in Amsterdam, the way he had covered her back through the worst of it, she just couldn’t imagine Joachim as a murderer. What the hell happened in Leipzig?

  Chapter 14

  The Velvet Kitten

  Leipzig, Germany

  Trying not to appear haggard and worn, Joachim stood outside the nightclub and surveyed the entrance. It occupied a corner spot on the first floor of a six-story walk-up in one of the impoverished areas near the warehouse district downtown. A sandwich shop, now closed, and a tattoo parlor festooned with neon lights that worked late into the night flanked the club. Industrial music slammed into the alley as the breeze outside the building stirred up fast-food refuse. Joachim had never been to the Velvet Kitten, but he knew one of the women who worked there. Both of those things had drawn him to the nightclub. Whoever was looking for him—police, BND and the mysterious sniper who had killed Schultz—wouldn’t go there to find him.

  Ingrid was from the old neighborhood and had been one of his sister’s friends. Almost ten years ago, Ingrid had fallen on bad times and gotten in trouble with the drug scene. Her boyfriend at the time had ripped off the dealers and left Ingrid to hang in the wind. They’d focused on Ingrid, threatening to sell her to a white slavery ring to recoup part of their losses.

  Ingrid had gone to Joachim’s sister, and Krista had begged him to intervene. Both of them had been teens then, but Ingrid had been living well beyond her years, stepping directly into the roughest side of life.

  Joachim had used Günter’s connections to track down the AWOL boyfriend, brought the man back from Munich, delivered him and what were left of the drugs to the dealers.

  Joachim had never found out what the dealers had done with the man, but they’d left Ingrid alone. Now he hoped that she would be willing to help him, and would be clean enough to do it. He’d called her earlier, making arrangements to borrow her car to get clear of Leipzig. He had a safe-deposit box in Berlin, as well as papers in three other names. He hoped it would be enough.

  A hulking young man guarded the club door. Joachim paid the cover charge and walked through the metal detector without setting an alarm off, feeling exposed without his weapon.

  Inside, the club was filled with smoke from cigarettes as well as marijuana. The music that outside had seemed too loud was now deafening. A huge mosh pit formed out in the center of the floor. Dancers threw themselves against each other with reckless abandon. The band performed on a small stage to the left.

  Cocktail waitresses in skimpy clothing circulated the floor. The crowd in front of the bar was three deep, and harried bartenders kept the liquor flowing.

  “Can I get you something?”

  Joachim glanced around at the young waitress who stood with a server tray balanced on one hand and her other hand on her hip. She wore knee-high boots, a pullover top that emphasized her breasts and a skirt so short it barely covered her modesty.

  “I’m looking for Ingrid,” Joachim said.

  “She’s here.” The waitress turned and glanced around. She pointed across the room. “There. Do you see her?”

  Joachim did. He shoved a few deutsch marks into the young woman’s tip glass. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” The woman gave him a smile. “If you don’t get any satisfaction from Ingrid, let me know.”

  “Sure,” Joachim said. He crossed the room and took Ingrid by the elbow.

  The last time Joachim had seen Ingrid, she had been blond. Tonight she had ice blue hair cut square with her shoulders. She was slim hipped and had a girlish figure that she’d used to her advantage ever since she’d been a teenager. Despite her misadventures, nothing had ever happened to her natural beauty, “either from the drugs” or from harsh dealings at the hands of others. She wore the same boots, skirt and blouse as the other servers.

  She yanked her elbow from Joachim’s grasp.

  “Keep your hands to yourself!” Ingrid exploded angrily as she turned to face him with a bottle of beer drawn back to slam into his face. Then she saw who it was and the anger went away. She smiled a little blearily as she replaced the bottle on her serving tray. “Hey, Joachim.”

  “Ingrid.” Joachim tried to mask his disappointment. She’s still using. His anxiety levels rose.

  “I’ve seen you on television,” Ingrid said, passing beers out to a table of young men. “Didn’t know you’d be so famous one day.”

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” Joachim said, barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

  Ingrid gathered the money from the young men, thanked them, then walked away with an exaggerated hip sway.

  “I tried calling Krista,” Ingrid said over the roar of the crowd.

  Joachim didn’t comment. The less Ingrid knew, the better.

  “All I got was the automated answer.” Ingrid stopped by the bar and told the bartender she was going to be off the floor for a moment. She took Joachim by the arm and clung to him, molding her body against his as she guided him to the rear of the club. “So?”

  “So?” Joachim repeated.

  She pouted. “Did you kill that guy?”

  “No. If you thought that, why would you help me?”

  Ingrid showed him a gamin’s grin. Life had always been a game to her, not worth living without some kind of risk. She trailed a hand suggestively over his chest. “You know me, Joachim. I’ve always had a thing for dangerous guys.”

  Joachim kept silent.

  “Plus, I’m Krista’s friend.” Ingrid wrinkled her nose. “And I owe you something for that help you gave me.”

  “I never said you owed me anything,” Joachim said.

  “I know.” Ingrid laid her head against his arm. She didn’t even come up to his shoulder.

  Joachim looked at her and tried to handle the unexpected situation the best that he could. She ran her hands over his chest and quickly headed south, still smiling. He caught her hands in his.

  “A lot of bad people are chasing me,” Joachim said.

  “They’re not here.” Ingrid tried to free her hands.

  Joachim kept hold. “The thought that they’re out there somewhere is…distracting.”

  “Another time?” Hope showed in Ingrid’s peppermint-swirled eyes.

  “Not tonight,” Joachim agreed. Not ever. But he didn’t say that. Even if he didn’t need her help, he wouldn’t have hurt her with his blanket rejection.

  She laid her head against his chest for a moment, her hands still trapped in his. He felt the warmth of her against him, but more than anything he felt the clock ticking away.

  Just before he could say anything, Ingrid asked, “Have you got the money?”

  “Yes.” Joachim stepped back from her, then reached inside his jacket and took out the ten thousand dollars he’d promised her for the car. The car wasn’t worth that much, but Ingrid had quoted the price and he hadn’t wanted to argue the amount.

  Ingrid took the money, riffed through it, then shoved it down inside one of the knee-high boots. She smiled. “Thanks, Joachim.”

  “Thank you,” he replied.

  Pulling a key chain from her other boot, Ingrid dangled the keys from a forefinger sporting an electric blue fingernail that was long enoug
h to rate as an edged weapon.

  Joachim took the keys, then followed Ingrid through the back door.

  A weak yellow light illuminated the narrow concrete stairs that led down into the alley. The pool of light barely made it out to the streetlight, leaving much of the alley cloaked in shadows.

  Ingrid pointed. “The Cabrio convertible at the back.”

  The car was a ten-year-old, rusted-out pit. Under the streetlight, Joachim didn’t know what color the vehicle had originally been or was supposed to be now. Graffiti covered the sides, all of it pertaining to industrial metal bands.

  “Not exactly inconspicuous,” Joachim commented.

  Crossing her arms over her breasts, Ingrid said, “I don’t want to live an inconspicuous life. That’s just not me.”

  Joachim headed for the car. He was halfway there when Ingrid called out to him. He turned to face her. Something sharp bit into his leg. When he glanced down, he saw a feathered tranquilizer dart jutting from his flesh. Drugs flooded his nervous system, turning his muscles to jelly and his brain to mush. He tried to move and almost fell. Helpless, he looked back at Ingrid.

  With the light behind her, she stood silhouetted on the steps. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Before Joachim could respond, rubber shrieked against pavement. Three vehicles roared into the alley, filling it at once. Their headlights splashed over Joachim. He moved, but it was in slow motion. They surrounded him at once.

  Athena Academy for the Advancement of Women

  Outside Athens, Arizona

  “Where are you going?”

  Standing at the bungalow door, Elle glanced back at Sam. Her sister peered from behind the door in the other bedroom.

  Elle was dressed. There was no denying that she was leaving. “Riley just got in. I thought maybe you could use some quality…alone time.” She smirked. “Although you might want to keep it down a little. You do have neighboring bungalows, you know.”

  “I know.” Sam smiled a little. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Elle shrugged. “I slept too much this afternoon. Maybe I’ll catch a movie.”

  “There’s a theater in Athens.”

  Elle showed Sam the MapQuest pages she’d printed out. “Found it. And I’ve got a map of the city on my iPAQ.” She touched the device.

  Sam didn’t appear reassured. “Athens isn’t big and there’s hardly any trouble there with Kayla Ryan on the police force. If you have any trouble—”

  Holding up her cell phone, Elle said, “I’ll call.”

  “Be careful.”

  Elle grinned. “You, too. I hear a lot of accidents can happen in the bedroom.”

  Riley’s laughter, deep and rich, came from behind the door.

  Sam looked a little embarrassed. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’ll be back in a few hours. Maybe you’ll be exhausted by then.” Trying not to feel guilty, Elle left.

  She walked to the jeep parked in the circular drive. Air-conditioning noises warred with crickets chirping. Leaving the top down, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she started the jeep and drove back to the main campus area, then down the access road to Script Pass.

  Elle turned right on Olympus Road and headed south into Athens. The town was small and compact, another small pool of community formed by the ever-expanding Glendale/Phoenix metro area. Although part of the larger city, Athens maintained its own police, fire and rescue services, which were subsidized from larger entities.

  Traffic was heavy, mostly teens out looking for something to do and packing the fast-food and pizza chains.

  Elle pulled into the parking area of a convenience store and went inside. A tall twentysomething clerk was hitting on a young woman, both of them enjoying the flirting.

  A sign over a back hallway announced the phones and bathrooms.

  Interrupting the clerk, Elle purchased a prepaid phone card, then retreated to the bank of pay phones. She punched in the prepaid number, then dialed the number of the Russian consulate in New York City. When the call was answered, she spoke a password that got her directly into the intelligence service.

  “You are not on a secure line,” a pleasant male voice said.

  “I know,” Elle responded. That meant that anything she said could be intercepted. She assumed that it would be. “This is important.”

  “Of course. How may I assist you?”

  Elle gave three more passwords to each cutout along the line. The United States government’s spy network would be hard-pressed to keep up with the phone connection as it split and split again.

  In less than four minutes, Fyodor Petrenko was on the line.

  “We are on an unprotected line,” he said gently when he answered.

  “Yes.” Elle hesitated.

  “What is wrong?” Concern sounded in her adoptive father’s voice.

  “I have come across some information that is disturbing.”

  “What?”

  “Lenin’s Lullaby,” Elle said. “Men named Klaus Stryker and Alexi Zemanov.” She listened to her father breathe in silence for a time.

  “We need to speak.”

  “I agree. Arnaud Beck is part of this, but that was never mentioned when we spoke.”

  “That was my choice. Perhaps I was mistaken. Can you get away?”

  The question sounded innocuous, but Elle knew it was intended to be taken literally. “Of course.”

  “Then do so. Let me know where to meet you.”

  “I will.”

  “Take care of yourself,” her father said. “The affair you’re looking into has many old and dangerous twists. A number of people and agencies wouldn’t want any of this to come to light.”

  “I understand.”

  The click of the connection breaking sounded grim and final. Elle held the receiver for a moment, then carefully cradled it. Getting out of the United States was going to be hard. Since 9-11, security had tightened up to the point that it was almost impossible to do anything without someone knowing. Her saving grace was that she wasn’t trying to hide anything and wasn’t a fugitive.

  Yet…

  When she walked back out to the jeep, Elle found an Athens police car had pulled in behind her, blocking her way.

  A uniformed female officer stood with crossed arms and a hip leaning on the car. Her dark brunette hair was long and pulled back. American Indian heritage showed in her honey complexion, high cheekbones and warm brown eyes. Her uniform was neat and carefully pressed. Lieutenant’s bars shone on her collar. She wore a pistol high on her hip.

  Her name was Kayla Ryan. Elle knew her from the description Sam had given. Kayla was one of the Cassandras, one of the young women that Sam had grown up with. After graduating from college, Kayla had returned to Athens to be a police officer and to raise her daughter, Jasmine, who was now thirteen and in attendance at Athena Academy.

  “Hello, lieutenant.” Elle stopped out of arm’s reach.

  Kayla’s smile faded, and Elle noticed the wariness in the woman’s eyes. “Hi. You’re not Sam, so you must be Elle. There’s nothing wrong. I just saw the Athena jeep and decided to stop to see who had come into town. I graduated from Athena. My name is—”

  “Kayla Ryan,” Elle said. “Yes. Sam has told me a lot about you.”

  “I see.” Kayla shook her head. “You look just like her.”

  “I get that a lot.”

  Kayla laughed. “I’ll bet you do. I mean, I’d heard the two of you were identical, but I hadn’t known how identical until tonight.”

  “She would love to see you.”

  “I’m planning to stop by tomorrow. I usually see Jazz on my days off. That’s my daughter. She’s at the Academy now.”

  “Make sure it’s not too early,” Elle suggested. “When I left her, Riley had just gotten in.”

  “Oh.”

  “Big oh,” Elle said. “Sometimes it’s embarrassing hanging around the two of them. I thought maybe I could make myself scarce for a while.
”

  “I understand.”

  “Sam mentioned there was a club where I could get a drink.”

  “There’s no shortage of them,” Kayla agreed. “What were you looking for?”

  “Something relaxed but safe. Live music if possible.” Live music generally meant a larger crowd.

  “You might try Bogart’s over on Saguaro,” Kayla suggested. “They’ve got live music. Tonight they’re featuring a singer called Lauren Holly. She’s a recent graduate of Athena Academy trying to make a go of her musical career. She’s got a big voice and does a lot of torch singer and jazz tunes.” She added directions.

  “Sounds good. I may try that.”

  Elle clambered back into the jeep and pulled out of the parking lot after Kayla. The police car turned left but Elle turned right, following the directions she’d been given. She breathed deeply, knowing that next time she and Kayla met, the policewoman would likely not be so friendly.

  When she reached Bogart’s, Elle found the parking lot full. The club was somber and dark, trusting reputation and not neon to bring in the clientele. A simple marquee advertised Lauren Holly.

  After making sure there were no Athens PD cars around, Elle got out of the jeep, walked through the lines of cars, found an older Mercedes and used a Swiss Army knife to break into it. In less than five minutes, she’d hotwired the car and driven off the lot.

  In less than an hour, she was at the airport and on the first available flight.

  Chapter 15

  Sunbright Cleaners

  Leipzig, Germany

  “Wake up, Joachim. Come on now. I don’t have all night.”

  Blinking, Joachim struggled through layers of pain-filled fog. Fear was a distant throb somewhere deep inside him, but he knew he should pay attention to it. Instead, he thought he’d go back to sleep.

  “Get his attention,” a rough voice said.

  Burning agony suddenly flooded Joachim’s face. It took him a moment to realize he’d been hit. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He forced open his eyes.