by J. C. Fields
“You didn’t watch him?”
JR remained silent as he watched the mug fill with coffee.
“What kind of a cluster fuck have you gotten us into, JR? Did he show up or not?”
JR turned and stared at Kruger but remained silent.
It took Kruger several minutes to figure out what JR meant. “Oh, he didn’t pick up the package.”
JR nodded, turned back to the Keurig, took his cup and raised it in Kruger’s direction. “Want some?”
“No thank you. Where is he?”
JR shrugged. “How should I know.”
“You’re not telling me everything, are you?”
JR shrugged again. “As I said before, you don’t want to know. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower and head over to the hospital.”
***
The next day, Mia’s condition was upgraded to good, and she was able to sit up in bed. JR held a cup of 7 Up and shaved ice to her lips as she sipped on the straw. “I think I want to buy the entire building where I live.”
Her lips let go of the straw. “Are you sure? I thought you wanted to find a quiet neighborhood on the south side of town?”
“The building’s for sale. The first-floor apartment was empty and the other tenant moved out suddenly after the shooting.”
She chuckled; it was the first time since the incident. “What would you do with it?”
“We could design the third floor as our home. The second floor would be the computer space, and the ground floor could be the reception area. Maybe a few offices, some cubicles, storage—you know, basic office space.”
She smiled. “Whatever you want to do will be fine. But, I reserve the right to decorate the top floor.”
He smiled. “That works for me.”
The door to Mia’s room opened, and Joseph and Kruger walked in. JR said, “How’s Sandy?”
Joseph smiled. “He’s going to be fine after some PT. He’s already fussing about being restricted to bed.”
Kruger had a scowl on his face, his demeanor dark, and he stood off to the side as JR and Joseph spoke. JR looked at him. “What’s your problem?”
Kruger was leaning against the wall next to the restroom; he stared at JR. “I was just informed Kozlov’s credit card was used to purchase gas at a convenience store on Highway 13 the night he disappeared. Security cameras show a man in a boonie hat, sunglasses, and a plaid shirt filling up a white Ford Focus. The bureau is scrambling several teams to Kansas City to cover the bus stations and airports. Also, a white Focus was found burned in a dry creek bed east of Ash Grove. Do you know anything about either of those events?”
JR shrugged. “Ford made more than one white Focus, Sean.”
Kruger stared at him, started to say something, but stopped.
Joseph glared at both of them. “If you two need to talk, take it outside. Mia doesn’t need the stress.”
Kruger stood up and walked out of the room. JR followed and frowned at Joseph as he passed. He caught up to Kruger and they walked to the elevator in silence. The door opened and they took it to the ground floor. Once outside in the parking lot, Kruger turned abruptly and got into JR’s face. “You’d better tell me what happened if you want me to support you.”
JR stared back. “Are you sure you want to know?”
Kruger nodded.
JR hesitated for a few moments. “Very well, Kozlov showed up and left without the bag.”
Kruger stared into JR’s eyes, but remained quiet.
JR looked away, his gaze toward the sea of parked cars. “I can tell you he won’t be bothering anyone again.”
“How do you know that?” Kruger said, his face turning a new shade of red.
JR was tired of the conversation. He turned back to face Kruger. “Because he’s dead—that’s why.”
Kruger backed away from JR and relaxed. “How?’
JR shook his head. “A body with his identification on it will be found in Mexico City tomorrow. Trust me, he will never be seen again.”
Kruger frowned but was silent for a moment. “How?”
“There’s a hacker in Mexico City. He’s as good as I am, maybe better. I sent Kozlov’s passport and twenty-thousand dollars to him via FedEx yesterday afternoon. He’ll make sure it’s found on a body that’s unrecognizable.”
Kruger said nothing, turned, walked about twenty yards away and then returned. “Is there a record of him entering Mexico?”
JR nodded. “His passport was stamped at Nuevo Laredo. He stayed at a hotel in San Luis Potosi before getting to Mexico City.”
“How did you do that?”
“Really, Sean, do you want to know the technical details?”
Kruger shook his head. “Will you tell me where he really is?”
JR shook his head. “I told you, his passport will be found on a body in Mexico City. Let’s face it, if I’d turned Kozlov over to you, the guys in black suits would have shown up and whisked him away. They weren’t going to allow him to tell the world how the CIA turned him loose to rape and pillage the rich and stupid in New York City. ”
Kruger smiled. “I was concerned about that too.”
“I couldn’t take a chance on them putting him in a witness protection program where in a few years he’d be back knocking on my door. We were lucky this time Mia wasn’t killed. I won’t take that chance again. My way was the best, Sean. We don’t have to worry about Kozlov ever again.”
Kruger crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked back at the hospital. He took a deep breath. “I have another problem.”
“What is it?”
“I’m getting heat about finding you.”
JR was silent; he turned his head and stared out into the parking lot again. “What are you going to tell them?”
Kruger sighed. “Nothing at the moment. I told you when we first met, I would help clear your name. But you’ll have to go back to New York and testify.”
JR shook his head. “I’ve been thinking. I’m not sure I want my old name cleared. I like my current situation.”
“That’s your decision. I’m still willing to help.”
“I’m not sure if Kozlov’s body will ever be found. It might be, but I doubt it. If someone does find it, there will be identification on it.”
Kruger glared at JR, “What do you mean?”
“Before I disposed of the body,” he paused, “I put my old passport in his jacket pocket.”
Chapter 39
Kruger parked his Mustang in his assigned space just after four in the afternoon. He sat in the car for a few seconds, yawned, and then got out. After retrieving his overnight bag from the trunk, he noticed Stephanie’s car was not in its assigned slot. Disappointed, he climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the door to his apartment. The place smelled musty and stale. Opening the sliding glass door to the balcony allowed a cool October breeze to flow into the apartment. Standing there, he smiled and tried to remember how long it had been since he had been home. The overnight bag and backpack were thrown onto his bed, to be unpacked later. Walking toward the bathroom, he stripped and got ready for a long shower.
Thirty minutes later, he was sitting on the balcony in a pair of Reebok wind pants and a sweatshirt sipping a cold beer. Stephanie had replied to an earlier text message. She would be home a little before six. Glancing at the time on his cell phone, he sighed and called his boss, Alan Seltzer. The call was answered on the third ring.
“It’s about damn time you checked in. Talk to me.”
“Alan, there really isn’t anything new to tell you. You’ve read my reports and we’ve discussed them on a regular basis. I sent one just before I drove back to Kansas City. You’re as up to date as possible.”
“Sean, we’ve known each other for a long time. You’ve never put everything in your official reports. This time, I need to know what’s been left out.”
“Not this time, Alan. Everything’s there. We caught Adam Weber and extradited him to New York
City. He will be charged with Sharon Crawford’s murder and the DA told me they have ample evidence for a conviction. When I spoke to the sheriff of Stone County Missouri, he said their prosecutor was preparing to file numerous charges against Weber as well.
“Alexi Kozlov was an ex-Soviet-era sleeper agent the CIA ran as a double agent back in the eighties. He killed four people in Springfield and escaped the manhunt thrown down by the city and county. Somehow he made his way to Mexico City, where he met an unfortunate accident.”
“Very convenient.” Seltzer paused for a second. “You’ve never once explained why Weber and Kozlov were in Springfield.”
Kruger closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath. “Weber told me he’d traced the fugitive to the area. I can only speculate about Kozlov; I didn’t get an opportunity to question him.”
“Indulge me.”
“He needed to eliminate Weber because Weber knew the truth about P&G Global.”
“That makes sense. So, did Weber find the fugitive?
Hesitating for a few moments, Kruger said, “I think he’s dead. Weber traded the fugitive’s location to buy time for his escape. Kozlov might have found him, but I can’t confirm he did or didn’t.” Kruger smiled slightly as he spoke. “If you want me to keep trying, I will. But, I think it’s a dead end.”
There was silence on the other end of the call. Finally Seltzer said, “No, we’ll close the file. Besides, unraveling the conspiracy at P&G Global was a bigger coup; the assistant director was pleased. The media frenzy over Crigler’s corruption and Weber’s arrest has been an embarrassment for the director. He was called to the White House today concerning the matter. From what I heard, the president asked for his resignation. But as usual the director talked his way out of it and blamed others.”
Kruger chuckled. “Yeah, he seems to have nine lives.”
“What are your plans for next week? I’ve had a few requests for your services, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
Kruger smiled. “I appreciate that, Alan. I was hoping to take a few days off.”
“Fine, call me when you get back.”
He ended the call just as Stephanie walked into the apartment with a bag of groceries in her arms. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve got a special meal planned for us.”
Kruger smiled, walked into the living room, gave her a kiss, and helped carry the groceries to the kitchen.
Later that night, after making love, they lay in bed holding each other, enjoying being together. During dinner, Kruger had told her everything about the events of the past week. But now he was quiet.
Stephanie picked up on his mood. “Sean, don’t be upset with JR. He was protecting Mia.”
Kruger nodded. “I know, but the fact he’s being vague about the details bothers me. I’m not sure he trusts me.”
She laughed, broke from his embrace, rose up slightly, and leaned on one elbow. “How long have you known him? Less than a month. Of course he doesn’t trust you yet. Look at what he’s been through. Give him time. Someday he will.”
He stared at the dark ceiling. “I know. Guess I’m being impatient.”
“Of course you are. Now, consider this. How would you have handled the situation if you were in his shoes? Think about that.”
He was silent for a long time, staring at the ceiling. “I would have handled it the exact same way.”
***
Four weeks after Mia was released from the hospital, JR and Mia were at the closing company signing papers giving his company possession of the entire building. A cashier’s check for the purchase amount was used, so he owned the building free and clear. After the signing, he and Mia met Joseph and Mary at a five-star restaurant in downtown Springfield. Mary was in town to join Joseph before they left on a long-planned vacation in New Zealand.
After the introductions and a lot of small talk over cocktails and wine, Mary said, “I’m not sure any of you know this, but Adam Weber struck a deal with the attorney general. He’s spilling his guts about P&G Global.” She took a sip of a dark-red Cabernet and continued, “It seems Crigler was siphoning off more money than Plymel. Some beltway pundits are calling for new legislation aimed at curtailing private equity companies.” She chuckled. “Or at least regulating them.”
JR was quiet as he stared into his wine glass. Finally he said, “Too many politicians are being paid too much money for that to ever happen.”
Joseph nodded. “Our political system is being challenged by this influx of silent money.”
JR continued, “The money isn’t that silent, Joseph. When I hacked into P&G Global’s computer, I found information about the amounts being paid to senators, congressmen, and even some of the president’s advisors. The sums were obscene. Until we get the big money out of politics, we will continue to have men like Crigler and Plymel.”
Mary nodded. “I agree, but the number of women getting into politics should help.”
JR laughed but said nothing. Mia lightly hit him on the shoulder and said, “She’s right. Women have higher moral standards than some of you men. The more women in politics, the better things will be.”
Joseph sipped his glass of single-malt scotch and smiled. “You don’t agree with our two female friends, JR?”
JR shook his head and stayed quiet.
Mia looked at him. “Why not?”
“Anything I say at this point will piss somebody off. I’ll keep my opinions to myself. That way, we can continue enjoying the evening.”
They all laughed and finished the evening without any further political discussions.
Later, when the two women excused themselves to visit the ladies room, Joseph leaned forward toward JR. “Okay, exactly what did you find on P&G Global’s computer?”
JR looked at Joseph. “The corruption extends to all levels of the government—men, women, you name it. Becoming a member of Congress is a fast ticket to wealth. And for those that want it, media exposure.”
“Help us fight it, JR. Use your abilities to chip away at the corruption.”
JR stared at his friend, “How?”
“Expose the corruption like you did with P&G Global.”
Chuckling, JR said, “You want me to hack into every computer on Wall Street?”
Joseph shook his head. “No, nothing like that—only when we have leads or suspicions.”
JR’s smile disappeared. He leaned forward and whispered, “Isn’t that brushing aside everyone’s constitutional rights?”
“Depends on what the money is being used for.”
Both men stopped their conversation and smiled as Mia and Mary sat down in their seats. Mia’s face was serious. “JR, is Sean Kruger going to clear your old name?”
JR shook his head but remained quiet.
“Why not? He said he would.”
With a grim smile, JR said, “Because I asked him not to.”
Mia’s eyebrows rose and she looked shocked.
JR smiled. “I like my current life. The old one.” He paused and stared into Mia’s eyes. “Well, it kind of sucked. You’re in my life now and I’m making a difference to a bunch of companies that need technical help. Sean told me I’d have to return to New York and testify to clear my name.” He slowly shook his head. “I’m not willing to do that, at least not right now.”
Mia took his hand and touched it to her chest just below her neck. She then kissed it, smiling warmly at JR.
Joseph quickly said, “Mia, JR can do a lot—”
“Oh hush, Joseph.” Mary frowned at him. “Mia’s smarter than the rest of us combined. She figured out what you do, Joseph, and knows you’ve asked JR to work with you. So stop treating us like we’re oblivious to the world around us.”
Joseph laughed and JR stared at Mia. “You know?”
Mia smiled. “Mary confirmed my suspicions. I’ll support you, whatever you do, JR. Joseph is doing good work, he needs you.”
JR continued staring at Mia and slowly started to smile.
>
Joseph continued to chuckle. “That’s why I love Mary. She cuts through the bullshit and says what’s needed.”
JR nodded.
THE END
THE ASSASSIN’S TRAIL
Dedication
For my wife, Connie and our sons, Sean and Ryan
Acknowledgments
This novel, like my first, would not have been possible without the assistance and efforts of others. While the writing itself is a solitary endeavor, getting the words right takes a team.
First, I want to thank the members of my critique group; Ike, Wayne, Bonnie, John D. Judy and our newest member Kwen. Your brutally honest comments and suggestions continue to both challenge and enhance my journey as a writer.
To my editor Emily Truscott, thank you for your work in making this book a better reading experience.
Thanks are also sent to Norma Eaton for her tireless work of making sure my tendency to get comma happy is curtailed. You once again fine-tuned the manuscript before sending it to the publisher.
To Sharon Kizziah-Holmes of Paperback-Press, your continued enthusiasm and support is appreciated more than you can imagine.
Finally, and above all else, I give thanks, each day for my wife Connie. She continues to endure my early mornings, late nights and weekend excursions into my office as I work on my manuscripts. She is truly my best friend and a wonderful partner in life.
Chapter 1
The assassin waited on the parked motorcycle, a helmet obscuring his face. One parking space away was a black Mercedes convertible, its top down. His hand, hidden inside his leather jacket, held a suppressed SIG Sauer automatic. He watched the tall, well-dressed man exit the Starbucks and wave to someone inside. As the man approached the Mercedes, the motorcyclist’s grip tightened as he prepared to withdraw the weapon.
Headlights flashed on the Mercedes as another car pulled into the empty parking space next to him and blocked his view of the tall man. A wave of panic engulfed him; his target was about to get away. As the man opened the driver’s side door of the Mercedes, the motorcyclist realized he might have one more opportunity if he hurried. Leaving the gun inside his jacket, he started the motorcycle as the Mercedes backed out of its parking space.
