Don't Look Down

by Jennifer Crusie

  "No shit?"

  "Lucy-" He stopped. "Armstrong called him and told him she was shutting down the film. He insisted on meeting her. Today."

  "Where? When?"

  "We don't know yet. He'll call her back with that."

  Crawford leaned back in his seat. Wilder watched his eyes. They were scanning the room even as he was thinking.

  He didn't just learn that, Wilder thought. Fuck-head's been playing me so I'd be off guard.

  "Okay," Crawford finally said. "Would she be willing to wear a wire and plant a bug?"

  "You don't need to wire her."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm going to the meeting with her. And you're not wiring me either. Because you're arresting Finnegan, right?"

  "Wrong."

  "Why not?"

  "Finnegan is just a piece of the puzzle." Crawford began to look less self-possessed. "We have bigger fish to fry."

  Fuck. "You want Letsky. This whole circus is about Letsky."

  "Right."

  Lucy was going to be pissed. Wilder shook his head. "I don't see how-"

  Crawford leaned forward. "Letsky has set up a meeting with Finnegan for midnight. We want that meeting."

  Double fuck-Lucy was going to be really pissed. Not that she wasn't furious already. "Letsky's close by?"

  "Given the timing of the meeting, yes. We suspect he's offshore, in international waters."

  "So why don't you just go to the meeting place and take Letsky down?'

  "We don't know where it is. We know when. Finnegan knows where. Could be anywhere within a couple hours' flying time. That's a big damn circle to cover."

  "Why are they meeting?"

  Crawford drummed his fingers on the table for several moments. "Finnegan owes Letsky and he's going to repay him."

  "Fifty million?" Wilder asked. "Where'd he get that kind of money?"

  "Not money," Crawford said. "Finnegan's giving Letsky the art he originally bought."

  Wilder rubbed his forehead where a headache was beginning to pulse. "How?"

  "Using the chopper in the movie stunt."

  That's why they need the cargo net. But it still made no sense. "I thought the art was seized in Mexico. Where's it at right now?"

  Crawford smiled. "You don't need to worry about that."

  "What do I need to worry about other than you lying to me?"

  "I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you the truth. You didn't have a need to know."

  Wilder wondered how much more was going on that Crawford had determined he didn't have a need to know. Of course there was no point in asking that, because he didn't have a need to know. Spooks and their games.

  Crawford reached under the table and Wilder tensed, but the CIA man pulled out a small metal case and placed it on the worn surface. He paused as the waitress came by and refilled their coffees. Then he opened the lid, revealing several objects set in foam padding.

  " I racking transmitter,' Crawford said, tapping a dime-sized device, fie touched the cigarette-pack-size unit. "Tracking receiver." He pointed at two smaller white pieces. "Extra batteries for the tracker, You shouldn't need them. This will all be over within twenty-four hours." He shut the lid and slid it across the table to Wilder.

  "What or who do you want me to bug?" Wilder asked.

  "Finnegan, of course, since you're going to the meeting and you won't let us wire you. I was going to have you put it on Nash, but we only needed him to lead us to Finnegan. Now that you've got Finnegan…" Crawford shrugged.

  Wilder felt three steps behind and he didn't like it. "What's Nash's role in this?"

  "He's getting Finnegan to the meeting with Letsky."

  Wilder shook his head. "This is a pretty elaborate setup just for a helicopter ride. He could hire anybody for that."

  "Oh, Finnegan is indeed laundering money through the film," Crawford said. "Two birds with one stone. He still has to make a living. He's been paying Letsky enough to keep him off his ass long enough to make restitution. Finnegan needs the helicopter scene for that. Law enforcement tends to get curious about helicopters buzzing bridges and the swamp, but not if it's a movie shoot."

  "So during the last stunt tonight, Nash and Finnegan are going to take the chopper and fly to meet Letsky somewhere?"

  "Right."

  "Why does he need Nash?"

  "It's complicated."

  No shit. "Why don't you just take down Finnegan this afternoon and squeeze him for the location of the meeting?"

  "Because Letsky will disappear if word of the takedown gets to him. You know how dangerous those kinds of ops are. And what if the squeeze doesn't work?"

  Everyone talks if you apply the right amount of pressure. "I don't-"

  "I don't care what you don't, Wilder," Crawford said. "I've already told you more than you need to know. The rest is none of your business."

  Wilder resisted the urge to punch him. Probably get him another check in the column marked problems dealing with authority figures. Although if he showed them Crawford, they'd understand.

  "Do you understand me, Captain Wilder?"

  "None of this is my business," Wilder told him and walked out.

  Chapter 16

  "So you're going to make nice when we go to the meet," Wilder said to Lucy when he'd met her back at the camper and explained it all to her.

  "Why?" Lucy had that stubborn look again. "Why can't I just tell Finnegan it's over? He's not going to be suing me if he's got the Russian mob on his butt. I think it's definitely past time to cut our losses. Stephanie's going to be okay, Bryce didn't get hurt, you didn't get knifed, so I'm thinking we're pushing our luck here if we keep going. Let Finnegan have his stupid helicopter without my people on the bridge. We can put up the lights so the cops think we're shooting and then just leave-"

  Wilder shook his head. "No good. We can't spook them with the change in plans. The stunt has to go off, and then Nash will take Finnegan to Letsky, probably with the jade in the cargo net. Letksy is a bad guy and he needs to go down, Luce. We have to do this."

  Lucy took a deep breath. "I'm having a bad day."

  Wilder nodded. "I need you to play nice when he calls with the meet location. Follow my lead. Do not tell him you're shutting down the movie unless I say that's what you're going to do. Let me handle this." He saw her face flush and added, "It's my mission, Lucy. Tonight it's your movie, but today it's my mission."

  "No," Lucy said. "Tonight it's my movie, but today it's my crew, my cast, my family, my people. I am not sacrificing anybody for the fucking CIA."

  She shifted away from him, and he slid his arm around her and pulled her close, needing her warmth next to him.

  "I'm not the CIA," he said, looking into her eyes. "I'm on your side. You have to trust me."

  "Right," she said. "So about these two ex-wives-"

  Her cell phone rang.

  "That's Finnegan," Wilder said, and let her go. "Answer it."

  Lucy took a deep breath and answered the phone.

  Wilder drove up to the entrance to the Savannah Wildlife Refuge, following the directions Finnegan had given Lucy, and stopped the Jeep.

  '"What's wrong?" Lucy asked.

  What's right? Swamp mixed with forest lay all around. Indian country, his team sergeant would have said-perfect for an ambush. A metal bar was slid off to one side and a sign warned that the refuge closed at dark. Another sign indicated the road through the refuge was one-way. They had passed the exit about a half mile north of here. Bad omens, both of them.

  "J.T.?"

  Wilder tried to give Lucy his "no problem" smile but it was one he couldn't remember using before so he wasn't sure how it went over. "Everything's cool." He wondered if that qualified as lying as he drove down the gravel road that was set on top of a berm with swamp on either side. He slammed on the brakes as the metal bar rattled shut behind them. An even worse omen.

  "Uh, still cool?" Lucy asked, her voice a little higher than usual.

  A tra
p or somebody just making sure no one else joined the meeting? And who had shut it? Someone who had surveillance on them.

  He did not like that at all. He slowly looked about. The cranes in the port to the south. The paper-mill towers. Hell, someone could be in the swamp itself with an angle on the road. Could even be Moot, lying out there licking her chops for her next meal to come down the road. Of all the possibilities, Wilder liked the idea of facing Moot the best. At least he knew what to expect with a gator, having been fully briefed by Pepper at lunch after she'd run out of Wonder Woman facts. Wilder smiled grimly. Pepper was better than Crawford at intelligence.

  "J.T.?" Lucy's voice cut through the stillness.

  This was why they'd used hand and arm signals on his old team and nobody had spoken when they were tactical. "It's all right." He opened the metal box between the seats and took out a Beretta 9-mm pistol in a well-worn leather holster. He pulled the gun out of the holster, checked the magazine, chambered a round, then nipped the gun and held it by the barrel, the grip toward Lucy. "Here."

  She looked at him as if he were nuts. "This is your version of 'It's all right'?"

  "Just in case," he said, extending the gun farther.

  She took it reluctantly. "I thought you weren't going to give up your gun to anyone else again?"

  Women and their memories. Never cut a guy any slack about the past. "It's my backup gun. You can have my primary if you want. Anything for you."

  "That's really sweet, J.T." Lucy looked at the gun as if it were going to bite her. "Next time, try jewelry."

  "Safety is on," Wilder said, pointing. "Flip it and then pull the trigger. There is a round in the chamber, so be careful. You have fifteen bullets."

  "And double-tap, right?"

  So she had been listening. "Yep." He took the gun back, slid it into the holster, then gave it back to her. "Loop your belt through this. Strong hand side."

  As Lucy armed herself with no enthusiasm, he put the Jeep in gear and drove. He felt like he was back in Iraq, waiting for a roadside bomb to go off. But Finnegan wouldn't do that. He needed Lucy. He wanted this meeting to convince her to go with the stunt and they had already decided to go with the stunt, so everything was going to be fine. Right, Wilder thought to himself. Lucy lifted her shirt over the holster, hiding it from sight, but there was a distinctive bulge. "Don't take the gun out unless you mean to shoot and don't shoot unless you mean to kill."

  "That will be never."

  Her face was tense and he felt bad. The only sound was the tires' crunch on the gravel. The road went into a patch of trees, and Wilder used one hand to pull out his Glock and place it between his legs, at the ready.

  Lucy drew back a little. "Should I do that? I am not going to shoot anybody but should-"

  Wilder shook his head. "You're the backup. Finnegan will expect me to be packing. You, he'll wonder about."

  "I'm wondering about me too," Lucy said. "Two days ago I was making a movie, then I hooked up with you, and now I'm carrying a gun to meet an international thief."

  "Yeah, sorry," Wilder said but she kept going.

  "You know, when I thought about us together, I figured I'd probably have to jump out of a plane for our anniversary or something, but I never thought the first thing you gave me would have a safety."

  That's good, Wilder thought. She's making jokes. He stole a glance at her. He thought they were jokes. "My life has never been dull."

  Lucy gave him a look. "How about we compromise from now on and go for 'not facing death daily'?"

  They cleared the patch of trees and saw two hundred yards of straight road through the swamp before the next stand of foliage. The old oak trees they were approaching were so large that the gravel road was a pathway into a green tunnel. They entered and Wilder rolled the Jeep to a stop because there was Finnegan, sitting on the hood of a maroon Jaguar, wearing a loud blue Hawaiian shirt under an expensive-looking jacket and smoking a large cigar. A cane with a silver tip and a silver handle shaped like a stallion's head was within his reach. He looked like a rich, badly dressed Jolly St. Nick. An asshole, Wilder instinctively felt.

  The sign behind Finnegan's car where the forest met the swamp read, it is a violation of state amp; federal law to feed or harass alligators. Too bad. Finnegan looked big enough to keep a couple of them stocked for the winter.

  Lucy got out of the car and went toward him.

  "You're even more beautiful than your picture," Finnegan said to her, grabbing his cane in his left hand and leaning on it as he slid off the hood of his car. He switched his cigar to his cane hand and extended his right hand toward her, but Wilder noticed that the Irishman's clear blue eyes were on him.

  Lucy did not take his hand. "You wanted to meet me?"

  "Ah, Lucy, my darlin'," Finnegan said with a heavy brogue, which Wilder also figured was bullshit.

  "You've been threatening me for two days," Lucy said. "Don't call me darling."

  Wilder scanned the area, but there was no obvious security, even though he was sure Finnegan was not out here on his own. He slid his Glock back into the holster and got out of the Jeep.

  "Oh, darlin', that's how business is." Finnegan shifted the cigar to his right hand again and gestured toward Wilder. "And who might this strapping lad be?"

  "My friend," Lucy said. "Captain Wilder."

  "Captain Wilder." Finnegan didn't bother to extend his hand toward Wilder. "I've heard of you." He drew hard on his cigar and looked back at Lucy. "And why do we need a captain of the Army here at a nice civilized meeting?"

  " This isn't civilized," Lucy said, her eyes steady on him.

  "Your 'friend,' eh?" Finnegan put just the right spin on the word to let them know he knew what their relationship was. "And poor Connor? Is he not your 'friend'?"

  "No." Lucy looked annoyed, which was better than afraid, but not by much, Wilder thought. "Mr. Finnegan, people on my movie are getting hurt."

  "Unfortunate," Finnegan said affably. "But accidents will happen. Nothing to do with me."

  Lucy drew in her breath, and Wilder knew she was going to blow. He walked past Finnegan and checked out the car. "Nice wheels."

  "You admire a fine automobile, Captain Wilder?" Finnegan said, turning away from Lucy as if she didn't matter.

  "No. But since you want to talk bullshit, I thought I'd join in."

  Finnegan nodded. "Ah, a man who likes to get to business quickly." He turned back to Lucy. "This really isn't negotiable, Lucy. We have a contract."

  Lucy shook her head. "Oh, no. You-"

  Wilder moved next to her, trying to draw Finnegan's attention. "Why are you so concerned about this movie being finished?"

  "I want to see my name on a movie screen." Finnegan shrugged, tapping cigar ash on the ground. "Glory, if you will. An old man's whimsy.'

  "No," Lucy said.

  Women. Wilder kept his face impassive.

  "Lass-"

  Lucy rolled over him. "The last time we did a stunt, we had injuries. We almost lost our lead actor. And now somebody's in the hospital."

  Finnegan smiled at her over his cigar. "Lucy darling, I cannot be held accountable for someone falling asleep at the wheel. That happens every day."

  "Not to people on my crew. Not like this. Nor do I have meetings in swamps every day." She shook her head, furious. "This is ridiculous. I-"

  "We'd like a guarantee," Wilder said, his hand in his pocket, palming the bug Crawford had given him. "Nobody else gets hurt. Whatever it is that you're doing, you do away from the cast and crew."

  He smiled, which made Finnegan pull back a little. Now all he had to do was figure out how to plant it on Finnegan. It didn't look like they were going to be hugging when they split, and pointing at the sky and saying, Look, Halley's Comet! didn't appear to be a good move, either.

  Finnegan nodded, leaning forward, one hand on the silver handle of his cane. "Just finish the movie and all will be well. I'll throw in a one-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus for you, deposited rig
ht after you finish filming tonight."

  While you're flying away? Wilder glanced at Lucy, hoping she kept her cool.

  She looked enraged. "You think I'll risk my people for money?"

  She was practically spitting, so Wilder figured it was time for a little interference for his wingwoman. "You keep the action away from the civilians, and the movie will be done tonight."

  "The hell it will," Lucy said, turning on him. "I decide-"

  Finnegan's eyes narrowed as he pointed his cigar at her. "I decide. It's my movie, lass. My money. My movie."

  Wilder noticed that the brogue faded with the rise in anger.

  "Then you film it tonight," Lucy said.

  Finnegan swung his cane up and shoved the tip at Lucy. "You do what I tell you-"

  Thank you. Wilder snatched the cane, palmed the end of it, and then twirled it and put the point on Finnegan's throat. "Talk nice to the lady. Or else."

  Finnegan froze, his eyes small and hard. "Are you threatening me? Boyo, you have no idea who you are messing with."

  Wilder nodded. Then he reversed the cane and offered the handle to Finnegan. "Sorry. Just concerned for the lady's welfare."

  "I'm still here," Lucy said, her eyes flat on Finnegan. "And I can take care of myself. This is ridiculous."

  Then do what we talked about and agree to finish the damn movie, Wilder thought as Finnegan took his cane back.

  "The movie will be done tonight," Wilder said once more, with a glance at Lucy. Her face was flushed with anger.

  Lucy looked furious. "I do n-"

  Wilder put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. "Lucy knows I'll be keeping an eye on everybody's safety, and now with your guarantee, she'll finish the shoot. Right, Lucy?"

  The silence stretched out, and then she nodded once, sharply.

  "So there is no problem," Wilder said. Except that I have to face this woman alone in a minute.

  Finnegan looked back and forth between the two of them, then he slowly nodded also. "Very good."

  Wilder stepped away from Lucy. "Time to go."

  When she didn't move, he tapped her arm, and she pivoted and stalked back to the Jeep. Fortunately, it didn't have a door for her to slam. Wilder nodded at Finnegan before getting into the driver's seat. He carefully drove around the Jaguar and then accelerated away, looping around toward the exit gate.