As she opened the door to the garage to rub off the dogs, she could hear Steve and Mathew talking close by but she doubted they were in the FBI van that was parked in the garage with an agent on duty round the clock. When she stepped back outside and closed the door, she could no longer hear them. A sinking feeling came into her stomach. She unleashed the corgis, letting them roam again in the backyard, then exited through the side gate to walk up and enter the house through the front door. As Ivy slipped inside, she saw Steve and Mathew talking in what was now Steve's office.
She put her finger to her lips and motioned for them to follow her outside. They stood on the street while she explained what she had heard. The deal had been that surveillance was okay, but no bugs in the house. She watched Steve’s face harden and Mathew silently clenched his jaw. They hurried back to the house, taking off their shoes and moving quietly. Steve went into his office, opened his big briefcase and pulled out a device that Ivy guessed was a bug detector. He quickly found a bug in the office where he worked. Mathew came out of his room, Ivy’s old master bedroom, with a similar device and holding up one finger. They slid around the house, finding four more on the top floor. By now Ivy was seething. They tiptoed downstairs where they found another four bugs, including one in the bedroom that Steve and Ivy now shared. She was more than mad, she was simply livid.
No longer stealthily, Steve jerked open the door to the garage. Mathew and Ivy could hear him yelling at the agent in the van, telling him to shut down and leave. The van doors slammed. They heard the motor start and then the van backed out. The garage door closed. Steve stormed back in, dialing his cell phone and demanding to speak to his boss at the FBI.
He listened for a moment and then he spoke forcefully into the phone. "I don't give a damn if he is in a meeting. Get him on the phone. This won't take long."
After a few minutes, Steve bellowed into the phone. "What the hell are you doing? Spying on two dedicated, experienced agents? We don't do that to our own. Not without reasonable cause. AND YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CAUSE." Steve paused, listened for a moment and then continued in the same angry tone.
"I was very clear about no bugs in the house. Expect a letter announcing my retirement in your email box within the hour."
Steve was silent for a moment then started hollering again. "No damn it, I will not cool off. You have always been a know-it-all-desk-riding jerk. I may be pissed off but I know exactly what I’m saying. While you are waiting for my letter, take your little pin head and stick it up your fat ass, where you can't do anyone any harm." He clicked the phone off and stood glaring at the wall. Mathew stared at Steve with a dawning look of wonder on his face.
"That was eloquent." Ivy spoke with humor in her voice, wanting to break Steve's angry mood. Seeing him so worked up about the bugs made her own annoyance dissipate.
Steve turned the full force of his glare on her. Her devilish look reached through his anger and his mouth began to twitch with amusement. Suddenly the three of them were laughing and holding on to each other. When they finally stopped, Mathew did an imitation of Steve on the phone and they started laughing all over again. Soon Steve was doing imitations of himself. All those weeks of being cooped up and all the tension of the last few days, came bubbling out in their amusement.
When they finally calmed down, Steve regarded Mathew and Ivy questioningly, "What the hell do we do now?"
Mathew wiped tears of laughter from the corners of eyes, "First we all make sure we are armed, just in case. That includes you, Ivy."
"I have to call the Chief to tell him I’m retiring before that sanctimonious son of a bitch who calls himself my boss runs in to tattle on me. Then I have to write that letter to confirm my intention to retire."
"Me too," Mathew said and smiled cryptically at Steve.
"Huh?"
"I have a letter to write to you. I'm resigning from the Bureau."
"Mathew, that's a knee-jerk reaction."
"Steve, I have wanted to leave for months. I hung on because you inspire me."
"Take time, think this over."
"Like you did?"
"Today, that HQ goldbricker I report to and the bugs he had put in this house were the catalyst. I have been in a muddle about my life since I turned 60. No way do I want only to see Ivy only now and then. I've been too damn scared to act, not seeing what to do with my time."
Mathew and Ivy exchanged a glance. She nodded.
"I have a solution for that," Mathew began a bit tentatively. "You're going to be my partner."
"What are you talking about?"
"We're opening a vineyard. We'll be growing grapes for wine and becoming vintners."
"Mathew, we don't know a damn thing about farming or about wine."
"You're wrong. We are great at drinking it."
Steve snorted and shook his head.
"Steve, hear me out. We're top-notch researchers. We learn fast. We work hard. We excel at what we do. You are fit and active and I soon will be again. I can finance it with part of my Dad's fortune. You can take some of the wad you stashed away over the years and build a house for Ivy on the land."
Steve shook his head again, although his eyes did light up when Mathew mentioned building a house for Ivy.
"Give it some thought, Steve. We can do this. I'm talking to a major grower and vintner next week to begin learning the facts. We can check out land and vineyards for sale. Think about it, just think about it."
Steve shrugged. Ivy leaned over, kissed his cheek, and whispered, "Consider it, for Mathew."
Then she stepped back trying to appear more serious than she felt. "Okay, if you are ready to do it, write those letters. And then clean this place up."
The two men were perplexed. Ivy never asked them to clean -- they were both so neat, she never needed to.
"The bugs, dummies, disable those damn bugs. I want them out of here."
"Oh, that's what you meant. We also have to retool the surveillance cameras and the security system so we can do monitoring from here or wherever via an internet connection."
She let the dogs in, toweled them off and then turned to go upstairs.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked.
"Getting armed, icing a bottle of champagne and then making a reservation for dinner. Steak sound good?"
Mathew and Steve exchanged a look and smiled.
"Yeah, big steak dinner." Steve said. "Oysters first."
"Garlic mashed potatoes." Mathew batted back. "Then a cheese course."
"Dripping in calories dessert."
"Different wine with every course."
"Right. Urban Farmer at seven. I'll arrange a town car because we are going to celebrate!" Ivy's jubilance danced out in her voice. She turned and sprinted up the stairs feeling more energized than she had in years.
Over dinner, which was rowdy and only sometimes serious, the two ex-agents tossed around names for the vineyard, jokingly settling on ‘Spook Hills’. Steve confessed that he always wanted to be a spy or spook as they were called, but he was too big to be inconspicuous. He gave his agreement to Mathew to support him with the vineyard idea. He stared at his plate thoughtfully and tapped the table a few times with his forefinger. "I have a few conditions, though.”
"Expected that," Mathew responded with a shake of his head.
"You take the lead on it. I will support you. I'll do labor. While I will learn about it, this is yours to run."
Mathew nodded. "That will be a big change! What else?"
"Ivy and I are going to travel as tourists. I’m going to start seeing more of the world than hotel rooms and some perp's operation. We're going to spend time visiting iconic landmarks, appreciating different countrysides and learning about a variety of cultures all around the world. And hey, we'll be sampling local wines. Maybe sometimes you'll come with us."
"And?"
"You live with us until you have someone in your life."
Mathew laughed at him. "You drive a hard bargain -- yes to all
three."
"Shake on it," Ivy said quietly. From that crazy upside-down, half-serious, half-joking day, the concept of their vineyard was born.
Chapter 12
Steve put his cell phone back in his pocket early the following Monday morning and went in search of Ivy, catching her pulling on her raincoat to leave for work. "We have to go back to D.C., clean out the condos, turn in our gear, get out-processed and all that jazz."
She regarded him with mild surprise. "Should I go with you? I could take some vacation. The dogs and Druid can go to a kennel."
"Safer that way. How about we leave this Thursday, out-process on Friday and spend the weekend figuring out what to do with the furniture, the clothes, and the whole empty, pathetic life. I'll make the arrangements today. Target to have the condos on the market on Monday and we're back here Tuesday."
Mathew walked up as he heard the gist of the conversation, smiling a bit sadly and said, "Almost all my stuff can go to the Goodwill or somewhere like that, except some things from my Dad's house."
"Ditto. I have stuff from my Mom that Ivy can decide if she might want." Steve said. "Whatever we keep can be shipped out and stored until our plans are in place."
"Cars?" Ivy asked.
"Busteeds."
"What?"
"Busteeds -- Bureau vehicles when we were in town. Also called Bucars or BuCs."
"I suppose you call it BuSpeak too, this FBI lingo."
"You’re getting the hang of it."
"Is Brian coming down for the final debrief?" Mathew asked. "I want to keep in touch with him, Moll and a couple of others."
Steve nodded. "Let's take Brian and Moll out to dinner one night. Oh, and I have to close a safety deposit box."
He and Mathew exchanged a look. "Me too," Mathew said.
Ivy wondered what the two ex-agents had secreted away. False IDs? More firepower? Surely, they would have to turn all that in.
"Let's book into that Kimpton across the street from our building. That way we can dive right into stripping the condos."
***
They spent Friday morning in Washington picking up packing materials and starting to box up Mathew's place. Each of the men's studios had the sterility of a hotel room. The only furniture Ivy found worthwhile was what they had taken from one parent's house or the other. Early that afternoon, Moll arrived to stay with Ivy while Steve and Mathew went for their out-processing and debriefings at the Bureau. After receiving strict instructions about not opening the door to anyone but them and being careful to have her gun handy, Ivy concentrated on boxing up Steve's condo where she sorted his things between Portland and Goodwill. Moll helped as best he could with his arm still in a sling.
That night the five of them walked over to an upscale, comfortable place called Restaurant Nora, where an undercurrent of the city's energy seemed to crackle in the room. Champagne was flowing and the three younger men were in good spirits, although Ivy thought that Steve appeared a little on edge. Brian broke the news that he and Moll were leaving the Bureau in the next few weeks to start a forensics audit business.
"What the hell?" Steve said. "You have great careers ahead of you -- each of you."
"The truth is," Brian said, "I've succeeded with you and Mathew, the best agents in the Bureau, because you shielded me in the field. However I can do this forensics stuff. Moll and I started talking about it when you had us audit your code on that first case with you. Since then, we've spent whatever free time we had learning more.
Moll seemed uncomfortable. "Face it, I'm a desk jockey. I froze up so bad on that last mission that I'd be dead if you hadn't pitched me overboard."
"Every agent freezes up sometimes," Steve said somewhat gently.
Moll shook his head. "Every time for me. I'm more of a brain than a body."
Mathew was surprised that they had been silent about their change in career; on the other hand, had he ever talked about leaving the FBI? "The Bureau might hire you back as consultants."
Steve was still frowning, but then he nodded. "Yeah, believe it or not, I'm in good with the head of technology. I can put in a word whenever you want me to."
"We were thinking banks." Brian said. "They get stuck with big penalties when a money laundering case comes along. We could help them head it off, find the issue and help them take it to the Bureau. Likely by taking the initiative, any fine would be reduced or eliminated."
Moll was hunched over his plate and edging his silverware around, lining the pieces up in a neat line. "Maybe both banks and the Bureau. Have a diversified client list. We figure that 'London and Stanford', as you like to call us, have solid credentials and great experience. What about you two? Going to consult? Be vigilantes for third world governments?"
They all laughed and then Mathew leaned back, holding up his head with mock pride, "Become farmers. Plant pinot noir grapevines. Sit back and watch them grow. Then Steve is going to roll up his pants and squash the grapes with his big feet."
Lots of laughter followed that comment.
"Seriously, we will start a vineyard and learn the art and science of making world class wines. We have a line on some land that is located smack dab on a ridge between two great vineyards in Oregon. A couple of viniculture experts will check it out for us and we will have an appraisal performed. If not there, we'll find another location."
"A night of surprises. Well, go for it guys. Who would have thought? Harvard and Georgetown becoming vintners. What are you going to call it?"
"Spook Hills," said Mathew, finding it impossible to keep a straight face. "Make people think we were jet-setting spies instead of plodding federal agents."
They laughed some more and toasted each of their ventures; their spirits were high and heads in the restaurant turned towards their table trying to figure out the cause of the revelry. Steve ordered another bottle of champagne and asked for fresh glasses. After it came and their glasses were full, he stood up from the table and then knelt down next to Ivy, taking a small box from his pocket.
"Ivy, will you take this officially retired FBI agent for your husband?"
He opened the box. Inside was a sparkling emerald-cut diamond set in white gold, with smaller diamonds in the band. The box was from Tiffany. Ivy was speechless.
"Say yes, Ivy." He took her hand, slipping the ring on her finger. A thrill of happiness ran through her. This fascinating, tough, seasoned man wanted to spend the rest of his life with her!
"Yes, of course, yes." She bent over to kiss him. "It’s just a total surprise. When did you get the ring?"
"When we closed the safety deposit boxes today," he pushed himself back up and slid into his chair. "Mathew and I did a shopping trip in early December."
"You wanted to get engaged back then?"
"During our Thanksgiving weekend, I realized I wanted to meld my life to yours. While we felt so right together, I had things to work out about the Bureau and me. That is now behind us. Haven't you sensed that we would be spending the rest of our lives together? Like we reached out across the proverbial space-time continuum to find each other?"
The rest of the evening passed in a champagne and red wine haze. Moll amused them with scraps of memories of times at the Bureau. Steve and Ivy kept looking at each other and touching each other. Their knees would brush each other’s lightly or they would caress each other’s fingers in light motions. Ivy kept staring at the ring and then at him, wondering at this latest twist in their relationship. When they walked back to the hotel, the mild late January evening twinkled around them as if lit by summer fireflies. The last week had been a time of new beginnings for them all. After the stresses of the last couple of months, on top of the work pressures of the last few years, Ivy was ready for a fresh start.
Despite his joy at securing Ivy's commitment to marry him, Steve had a sense of ominous concern. The walk back to the hotel was only a few blocks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure on the opposite site of the street, slipping from shadow to shadow. When th
ey stopped at the corner, he risked sneaking a peek back, but saw nothing. Mathew, Brian and Moll trailed along behind them. Mathew gave a barely perceptible nod, confirming that they had a tail. In the hotel lobby, where Brian and Moll had also booked rooms, they parted for the night.
"We're going to the bar for a while," Mathew said. "Have a brandy or something. Watch the night unfold."
"Maybe get lucky," Moll said, looking around the almost empty lounge. "Though that seems unlikely. Still by D.C. standards, the night is young."
"You guys got protection in case you do get lucky?" Steve asked, looking at Mathew, who would understand he was talking about guns, not condoms.
"Always. You trained us well. See you for breakfast."
Ivy laughed and tugged Steve towards the elevator, wishing the three younger men a good night. Steve smiled at her, glad that he had three well-trained agents as friends to do a stakeout around the hotel. Mathew would brief Brian and Moll who would contact hotel security, show the FBI credentials they still carried, share their concerns, and start a methodical check of the hotel while Mathew kept watch on the entrance. On this night of all nights, Steve wanted Ivy to remain unaware that someone, FBI or a perp, was following them.
***
As soon as they returned to Portland, Mathew and Steve dedicated themselves to learning about becoming vintners. The property Mathew found vetted out well. He agreed on a price with the current owner and quickly set a date for closing. Steve found a smaller adjoining property on the same ridge that was half planted with wheat and half with an old, mostly sick, walnut grove along with three strips of evergreens. After spending a couple of afternoons sipping a single-malt scotch with the crusty old owner of the property, Steve was able to convince him to sell. Mathew's land came with a tumbling down house and two rotted outbuildings, which he wanted to restore even though they were so ramshackle that he worried they might have to tear them down.
Old Growth & Ivy (The Spook Hills Trilogy Book 1) Page 15
